


The Abandoned

by duckiesinaline



Series: The Emperor's Clothes [2]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M, Suit Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckiesinaline/pseuds/duckiesinaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It used to be you couldn't <em>wait</em> to tell me everything. What users were like, how wonderful they were, how I was too impatient, that I should try to talk with the isos ... where are all your words now, old friend?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Abandoned

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I couldn't leave the suits alone. This is definitely a thing for me - thus, it has its own series, now.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, Winzler, for all the whip-crackings and the beta reading!
> 
> In celebration, I've also updated [The Faithful](http://archiveofourown.org/works/338007) with some minor edits. I've half a mind full of potential components for a third part to this universe, but no promises yet. (Knowing Winzler, though, it'll happen sooner rather than later.)

There was only stony silence by the time he got back, and now, more than just the window was shattered.

His eyes were caught briefly by blades of glass scattered upon the carpet beneath the sill - light's rainbow refraction still fascinating even after all these months - before he picked out the newly scattered tray and amenities, a fractured tumbler lying incongruously upright where it had fetched up in a corner. The other was a smaller pile of crystal beside it, a powdery smudge on the wall where it had impacted.

The brick which had caused the initial upset was missing - 

"You came back alone."

\- and he turned on one heel to find it clutched tight in Clu's fist, the administrator seated in one of the suite's two armchairs; a foot propped upon the opposite knee in a pose all too reminiscent of what he had often adopted upon his throneship.

Tron shook his head once, tersely, feeling his shoulders draw up tense and defensive as he slid his weapon back into its shoulder holster. He did not bother with a report; Clu would not be interested in details. That was _his_ task to manage, and the current evidence more than spoke for itself. He reached for one of the hotel's house phones -

The administrator uncoiled from his seat. "Leave it. We will deal with this ourselves."

Tron froze, one hand still upon the receiver, eyes narrowed as he considered the sysadmin. Clu, whom he had left brooding with a broken window while he had tried to track the perpetrator, now stood boldly at said window with set face and brick in hand, making all of Tron's security instincts twitch.

Clu, in plain sight, daring his challengers to attempt a more direct attack. Clu, who never reacted well when he felt he had been wronged, whose plans were the most destructive when he felt he was being backed into a corner. Tron considered various consequences, let his hand slide from the handset - and dipped his chin as he let the purr curl forth into the room.

Clu's shoulders twitched. 

Hooks set, Tron let it strengthen; creep from the barely sub-aural into the obvious, shivering through throat and chest. He watched as the man finally began to turn from the window, slow and stilted as if he fought a compulsion, except his gaze was unblinking instead of evasive; too direct, in that way which more easily marked a former program from the users around them than the cultural differences that were fading with every day.

"Rinzler. What are you doing?"

 _Trying to distract you from righteous retribution until your processes list calms down._ Tron just managed to suppress the snort that tried to escape at that thought, but something must have showed on his face, because Clu was abruptly stalking over, the brick left absently upon the side table as he passed.

"Is there something you would like to tell me?" the admin asked, low and leading, a thumb tracing the edge of his chin and tilting his head back. Powdery grit from the makeshift missile left roughness in its wake. "It used to be you couldn't _wait_ to tell me everything. What users were like, how wonderful they were, how I was too impatient, that I should try to talk with the isos ... where are all your words now, old friend?"

_You didn't want them._

Clu's expression tightened, and perhaps there was something to the user saying about the eyes being screens, because the administrator seemed to read something in his that had fingers abruptly digging into the soft undersides of his jaw. "Do you have something to say that's worth listening to, now?" the man hissed over the warning leap of Tron's growl. "You, who abandoned the game, who aided and abetted the other side? You, who allowed this insult to occur?"

Tron swallowed, sipped at the air through clenched teeth, felt his throat flex against the administrator's palm. He would never sound like his user - his creator - again, and it was both a sorrow and a blessing. For he has seen now what perilous things happened when one walked too closely in their footsteps, but he could not speak without the rough burr of his experiences staining every word, every syllable a reminder of what he had lost and what he had done ... 

"But you're here. Now. Free."

But perhaps some things were worth the smaller pangs of regret and remorse, for it has been a long time since he has seen Clu look so taken aback. The thumb which had pressed just shy of bruising beneath his ear gentled, shifted, and traced the stiff line of his trachea. "You claim that it was your doing?" the administrator murmured, but for the time being, he looked more curious than infuriated; distracted by the fact that Tron had chosen to speak at all.

Tron was more than happy to capitalize upon that by slipping a finger through one of Clu's belt loops, tugging the man closer of his own volition. Keep the admin guessing, and perhaps he will be too busy querying to remember ire.

Clu had opted for a more casual style than Tron's own three-piece uniform, as befitting a leader who could afford such extravagances; eschewing the tie and waistcoat, even leaving the collar undone. He could sense the heat from the administrator's bared skin, warm upon cheek and breast; so close that he could trace the words in puffs against his neck. "And what have you done for me since then?" the administrator mocked softly.

 _Remained by your side._ But Tron had never played coy, and he reminded Clu of this with an even sharper pull and a snarling curl of his mouth. 

A single breath, traced by the flare of nostrils, and suddenly Clu's fingers were carding through his hair to grasp at the base of his skull; giving him no room for retreat as the man unceremoniously nosed up beneath his jaw, sucking sharply upon the fragile pulse-point. Tron's breath caught between gritted teeth, his swallow grating against fresh stubble, and he just managed to wedge one hand between them while the other reached blindly for the wall when his balance tipped.

Fingers abruptly hooked into the back of his jacket collar. Flexed and tensed. A sharper nip than the others distracted him just before Clu crowded even closer for leverage and _yanked_ ... and Tron reared, shoulders protesting, as his arms were jerked back by the cloth's grip and trapped behind him in a twist of fabric.

"Am I not properly allocating my resources, then?" Clu's words brushed hot against his ear as the emblem was removed from his collar, the pin dropping with a soft _thump_ to the carpet by his feet. A single finger slid beneath the knot of his tie to tug it down ... loose ... and in spite of the silk now hanging limp around his neck, Tron's breaths seemed to come no easier. "Are you going to presume to tell _me_ , now, how you're supposed to be used?"

Tron bared his teeth and boldly pressed himself against the sysadmin. Knee ... thigh ... groin, abdomen, chest. Let his growl rumble through them both in answer, a pointed rock of his hips reminding Clu that no contest was ever valid without a _true_ challenge - 

Clu's fingers raked down his chest, the hard edges of the nails palpable even through the shirt, catching in the waistcoat with a jerk that Tron barely had time to brace against before the administrator was crowding him back. Arms still bound behind him, Tron had to rely on the other man's balance as he was forced back two, three stumbling steps, and just as he raked teeth sharply over the edge of neck and shoulder in warning for the admin's impatience, the backs of his knees hit the arm-less couch's low cushions and he toppled ...

Clu braced himself upon a knee and elbow with a grunt just before he would have fallen atop him. Their hands still tangled with the jacket beneath him, forcing Tron's back into an awkward bow, the sysadmin watched him with a narrowed, calculating look that had been more often leveled upon arena games than these more private challenges. Rapidly recalculating, Tron nearly missed it when fingers plucked at the buttons of his collar ... down the satiny line of the shirt ... undid the broader catches upon the waist coat before continuing on down to the edge of his belt ...

Tron's breath shivered out of him as a warm, broad hand slipped beneath the cloth to spread, hot and possessive, upon the bare skin of his belly. Even after all this time, he could feel the pads of the fingers tracing familiar patterns over his skin, following traces and nodes that were no longer visible.

"I made you mine," Clu growled into his ear as the admin slid a knee onto the cushions, pushing his leg up and out, and Tron was just distracted enough by the hard curl of fingers around his waist that the admin managed to settle himself, heavy and solid, between his thighs. "They'll become mine too, and then there won't be any more of these petty outbursts ... "

Arms caught behind him, the weight of a body atop him, an opponent would have normally been left pinned and helpless. But Tron had little use for normal, and rather than just suffering Clu's temper, he splayed his left leg wide - knee hitting the back of the sofa, and with the extra leverage, a sharp thrust pushed his hips half-out from beneath the admin. Before Clu could shift to entrap him again, he swung his right leg up, over the man's shoulder, knee flexing, and hooked the back of calf and ankle around the man's jaw and _heaved_ ...

They rolled right off the cushions, Clu grunting as he hit the ground first, dishes from the evening's meal clattering upon the low coffee table as they fell into the narrow space between. With Tron's weight added atop, the administrator was stunned and breathless long enough that Tron managed to strip off crumpled jacket and shoulder harness both before he was forced to pin the man's arms against the floor. 

Tron could feel the legs gathering behind him, seeking leverage to buck him off. But rather than shift his body forward as expected, he pushed _back ..._ and the glacial glare Clu had been about to level on him abruptly rolled upwards when Tron bracketed the admin's hips with his thighs and ground himself firmly against the heat beneath him.

Tron shuddered at the sound Clu made, felt something escape his own throat as he filled to full hardness; felt an answering swell beneath him when he rolled his hips again. The weight he pressed upon the administrator's wrists was more supportive than caging now as he braced his arms, head hanging between them, half-shadows rippling across the body beneath him as the opened edges of his shirt swayed with each movement.

"Are you ... you trying to tell me that you're _loyal_?" Clu's words were ragged, hips pressing up for an entirely different reason now, but the mockery and anger were still audible, and Tron shook himself from the toe-curling sensations long enough to level a narrowed look upon the admin.

 _I did not abandon you._ He tugged one of the admin's hands off the ground, made sure to hold the man's gaze as he opened his mouth, and closed teeth gently upon a fingertip. Rolled his tongue languidly over the pad before he sealed his lips around it ... had the pleasure of seeing Clu's breath stop, eyes rapt and unblinking, when he sucked lightly upon the tip. 

_You do not have to fight the war alone._ He swallowed down to the second knuckle before he let his hand fall away; let his eyes half-lid knowingly when Clu did not move except to brush a second finger against his lips. He obliged, parting them, and as he played his tongue over both fingers he reached for his belt ... button ... zipper ...

Tron closed his eyes and gave a last, luxurious roll of his groin against the echoing hardness beneath before lifting himself up. Clu's fingers curled in protest at the loss of contact, pressing against his tongue, and he hummed in accordance as he pushed the fabric down; the clean lines of wool and cotton and satin lining, creasing and bunching, low upon his thighs.

There was a half-hearted push against the hand still encircling the man's opposite wrist, and Tron opened his eyes to a familiar mask of impatience and frustration. Lips curving daringly in a smirk around their prize, he finally let the fingers slip from his mouth with a final lave, back bowing as he guided the hand down between them, and said, "You don't always have to take what you want."

Clu shivered at the rumbling tick beneath his words, and then shivered again when he guided the slicked digits between his legs to press a tip to his own entrance. It curled automatically, seeking, and when it finally breached him to slide inside, slow and easy, he released a long, hissing breath.

"You want me to request permissions for what's already mine."

The words were sneering but the tone distracted, the administrator's expression vaguely perplexed beneath his frown. Tron could _see_ when the blacks of his eyes widened, spilling further into the pale irises; could time it to the rough stroke of the second finger when it slipped in alongside the first, and he was forced to hunch over just a little more with a grunt from the pressure inside.

Tron drew a shaking breath, but held his words as he splayed his fingers over the man's mouth, gaze warning the admin to patience as he nudged one tip between warm lips. Wet heat engulfed it - hotter than he expected, wondered if it was truly what ninety-eight-point-six degrees farenheit felt like - before he pulled it away. "So that I can say yes," he finally rasped - _so that you know you can trust me -_ as he pressed his own wetted finger close, saw Clu's eyes widen greedily when it slotted between the admin's and Tron was left panting at the fresh ache.

"You _like_ it."

The tone was suspicious, border-line wondering, and he met Clu's gaze with lifted brow before huffing out a soundless laugh ... and let his head fall back with a deliberate exhale as he sank down to the last knuckle, hips rocking gently forward, shivering as their combined touch grazed something needy, deep inside.

Clu had been curious, once. The administrator did not hold the same joy in new things as Quorra did, in learning for its own sake, but no matter how much more practical his reasons, he was no more immune to the urge to collect more data than any iso. So, when they had been both thoroughly satisfied that they understood the mechanics and parameters involved, Clu had wished to know what it was like from Tron's perspective.

The experiment had ended with Tron upon his belly, aching as if this had been their first run-time test, sore and bruised and wrung out as Clu had staggered to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Perhaps Clu could no longer retrieve instances of receiving anything good that he had not either commanded or taken for himself. Or maybe the sysadmin was afraid to want something again; something that could only be provided by someone else. In either case, the man had _snarled_ at the first stroke that grazed the node hidden deep inside, and all but smothered Tron against the bedding when he abruptly reclaimed his usual place, the experiment aborted almost before it had started.

Tron was hardly disappointed with their current arrangement, though. When he crooked his finger just a little more sharply, he could feel Clu's echo of his movement; and the next time he rocked against their hands, he couldn't help groaning and splaying his knees just that little bit wider.

"Why now?"

The question was strained, and Tron opened his eyes, just enough to regard the administrator from beneath his lashes. 

Clu looked ... pensive. An ambiguous expression for an equally ambiguous question, but a marked improvement over accusatory, furious, or belligerant. And so, rather than settle with guess-and-check, Tron opted for a well-known and hopefully more efficient tactic - he tilted his head with an arched brow, letting the administrator define what his query would point to.

 _"This,"_ Clu growled, impatient, the hand that had settled on Tron's hip tightening and the other ... Tron hissed, back arching, trembling upon the cutting edge between just-right and too-much. "You. Like this. _Liking_ this, giving me - "

"I'm not giving you anything." _Nothing you do not already have._

Tron covered Clu's mouth with his own to prevent more questions that had no right answer. Pushed the heel of his free hand down, firm against the stiff length beneath him. Was assured that he had scattered the admin's brooding thoughts when the man's hips stuttered into the touch, and echoed the moan trapped between them when Clu's fingers began to move inside him, shaking with every stroke.

His stomach tightened when the hand that had rested on his hip began to slide up beneath loosened layers of shirt and waistcoat, striped by the ends of the undone tie, and shivered when it lingered upon his flank, detoured across the abdomen, settled upon his ribs. Felt its heat, trapped between cloth and skin, build as it rested just beneath his breast, thumb curving over the crest of muscle to stroke over the dusky nub of flesh there. He had to turn his head away with a gasp, chest heaving, suddenly light-headed.

More. He needed more. More contact, more touch - more control.

There was a wordless growl, a demand, a plea when he pulled himself away. He had to swallow a whine when the fingers slipped from him, but he knew patience - patience that had lasted a thousand cycles, and by the users-that-were, he could be patient for a millicycle longer - and rolled to his feet before Clu could think to hold him back. Used fighting discipline to clear his head, to draw up his clothes enough to move with dignity, and cast a single, cool look down upon the admin ... before he walked away.

Tron did not look back. He did not need to. He needed no sensor reports or system access to tell that Clu was following in his wake, and so he walked, unhurried, toward the bedroom with shoulders back and head high and each stride as measured as if he was pacing out the opening protocols before a stadium audience.

He toed off his shoes, one after the other, when he crossed the threshold into relative darkness. Closed his eyes when he pushed his trousers away, allowing the body's optics to adjust that much faster. By the time he let the cloth fall, stepping out of the legs, he could pick out the room's shadow-limned furniture with ease, and felt a small pang of longing at the half-familiar color scheme of grays-on-grays and the thin strip of light leaking past the blackout curtains -

Fingers abruptly hooked around his hip. "What's the user world done to you, Rinzler ... you were never this much of a tease before," Clu rasped hungrily, words hot against the back of his neck, body even hotter against his spine where the admin had undone his own shirt; hard, where it was snugged tight against his rear. Tron's body betrayed him with an instinctive rock backwards before he snarled irritably at the admin's presumption, peeling away the hand that had stroked up his ribs - cloth bunched carelessly above its palm - before the one that ghosted up his inner thigh cupped him firmly, forcing him up onto his toes with a hiss of want.

Lips pressed against the back of his neck as Clu crowded him toward the bed, and stinging warmth bloomed before a tongue dragged hot and wet across the abused skin. Tron barred a groan behind clenched teeth, gathered his wits just soon enough to plant his feet before they reached the mattress, but half-bowed anyway when Clu shifted his hold to give him a full, luscious stroke and the other hand wandered down ... between ... and a finger brushed past and behind to nudge teasingly at his body's entrance.

"These user bodies ... these _human_ bodies ... " Clu panted into his rucked collar, abruptly still but for the lightest rocking of his hips against Tron's. "What are they doing to us ... "

 _Making us less than perfect._ Tron took the opening and swept his elbow up and back, purposely over-shooting so that softer flesh would connect with the side of Clu's head rather than hard bone. Continued with the twist of his torso so that as they toppled, he could hook a foot behind the admin's, shove the far shoulder over, and land them both upon the bed much as they had upon the floor earlier - Clu upon his back, Tron straddling him above, except this time Tron had no more patience and dragged his nails down the admin's chest with a harsh grind of his hips downwards when the man tensed to retaliate.

Clu choked, eyes wide, tight and trembling for a completely different reason now as his hands dug into Tron's hips with bruising force.

"We are _more_ ," Tron half-defended, half-pleaded, _willing_ his fellow erstwhile program to understand, just this once. The small tube was an easy reach upon the nightstand, and as he bent to push his lips over Clu's, he spilled cool gel into a small pool, low upon the administrator's belly. 

Clu inhaled sharply, shivered, and Tron plundered his mouth in his distraction. Licked after all the heat and temper and iron will hidden within the cracks and crevices as he dragged his hand through the warming slick and slipped beneath the tented fabric. Swallowed the moan that followed as Clu's hips arched to meet his touch, and Tron shifted up onto his knees as he freed the man, stroking him with smooth, firm sweeps. No more teasing, now.

Clu groaned, abruptly surging up with a clash of teeth, and Tron grinned back savagely before capturing the man's lower lip and sucking sharply upon it. And as the admin braced himself on one hand and latched the other upon the back of his neck, as if to somehow pull him even closer, he settled the blunt tip of the cock against himself, rolled his hips experimentally ...

Clu broke away with a gasp when he began to sink down, forehead falling against his collarbone when Tron opened for him, and watched, open-mouthed and panting, as he worked himself down by slow increments. Tron sipped shallowly at the air as that peculiar sense of _fullness_ slid deeper and deeper inside ... and only when he rested all his weight upon the man's hips did he exhale completely, rocking forward, feeling heady and half-drunk as he tested the new heat and pulse inside his belly with a clench of inner muscles.

_"Fuck .. "_

Tron nearly laughed at the user invective abruptly spilling from the admin's mouth, and before the burn of the new stretch had even fully faded, rose and fell again in one smooth motion. Fingers were abruptly scraping down his back - finding purchase on his hip, on his ass - and the next time he rode down, Clu was rising to meet him, and everything was now perfectly aligned to make his toes curl and the sweat prickle along his spine and a whimper struggle up his throat ...

"More ... give me more, Rinzler - "

And suddenly, it was too much. Tron snarled and springs creaked beneath them as Clu suddenly found himself flat upon his back once more, pinned by a forearm across the neck. _"Say my name."_

Flushed and dazed, visibly disoriented, Clu was still for a breathless moment before choking out, "Rinzler, Rinz - "

" _No!_ My true designation - my name! _Say my name_ \- "

And the already wide eyes widened even further, and Tron could almost _feel_ the man shrinking inside him as realization and panic and that reflexive, calamitous anger came roaring up through that rigid mask ...

Tron bent, touched his forehead to Clu's, shared his breath as he demanded recklessly, "Give me back my name."

He could feel the chest beneath him expanding, the thick muscles flexing, blood thrumming and radiating heat, just beneath the skin. He could hear in the tight hiss of indrawn breath the cold, cold fury that had banished a god, extinguished a race, conquered their entire world. He could taste the desperation in the back of his own throat, the words curdling in his stomach, struggling to find what he had not been able to for over a thousand cycles ...

And there was no more time left as Clu's jaw clenched and shoulders tensed, ready to throw him off.

"You didn't make me," he blurted, grimaced and shifted, reached out blindly to twine his fingers with the admin's and gave a pointed rock of his hips to remind him of what they had shared earlier. _Shared._ "Give me back my name, Clu. And I'll give you what you can't give yourself."

The laced fingers tightened around his to the point of pain, but Tron didn't dare to attempt so much as a coaxing purr. Barely even breathed, as the tension seemed to wind tighter and tighter in the body beneath him, in the air between them, until he finally opened his mouth, whether it be for good or ill, because -

The world uppended itself. Tron's back hit the mattress with a bounce, and it was his turn to put up a belated defense before Clu snapped, "Be still!" and glitch him if Tron didn't automatically freeze. But by then, Tron's senses had cleared, and suddenly he was aware of the empty feeling inside, the harsh rasp of their breath, the slow, rough slide of Clu's palm as it dragged up the back of his leg, levering it back ... back ... until his knee was bent nearly to his shoulder, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

"Be still," Clu repeated, a mere whisper this time, as the admin lined himself up and began to push back inside, "Tron."

There was no ache this time except what resided wholly within his chest as the man seated himself, full and heavy, deep within. Tron dragged in a shaking breath, dared to think that the air felt just a little bit lighter, and spread his hands upon Clu's belly and waist; mapping the infinitesimal shifts of the muscles as the man began to rock inside him.

Clu's movements were slow and deliberate ... _patient_ ... and Tron struggled not to touch himself because he wanted to see this, needed to watch that small furrow of concentration between the man's brows, needed to reassure himself with the perplexed curve of those lips, tick off all the familiar points of that face to bolster the hope that maybe, maybe this time, Clu might actually be working his way toward understanding ...

Tron dropped his hands to the covers and tensed when Clu's thrusts began to grow quick and shallow. Fisted the sheets into ruined knots when the angle shifted ever so slightly, and what had only been a slow, manageable burn of pleasure began to spark and build into something almost excruciating -

Clu gave a choked groan, ground against him, and froze. Tron clenched tight around the fullness within, breath squeezed to thin pants as heat filled his belly in slow pulses. And when, after interminable seconds, the man finally began to sag with a trembling exhale, Tron moved stiffly to take himself in hand - a palm planted itself upon his chest, stilling him.

"Purr for me." Tron blinked, still shaking with need, uncertain he'd heard right. But he was breathing deep to comply when there came a sudden, quiet, "Please. Tron."

The air he had only just sucked in nearly stuttered right back out of him. Perhaps it was a test, or Clu being perversely Clu, but when the admin merely waited, hand still resting, undemanding, upon his chest, Tron finally let the vibrations tick delicately through his bones. The hand pressed just a little deeper, letting the rumble build beneath it, then began to drag down, following the ridges and hollows of his abdomen, combing through the nest of curls below. And he couldn't help the swell of sound that met the curve of fingers around him - thought he might come right then and there ...

But there was another touch, soft and oddly gentle, _exploratory_ as it traced the rim of flesh still stretched tight around the admin, and Tron shuddered, arched, unable to draw breath, the growl choked into silence. Clu was staring at him; a strange, searching look, as if this was the first time they had met and the sysadmin was trying to peer into the very core of him, before that touch shifted incrementally upwards ... _stroked_ the tender skin just above ...

And all the world went white.


End file.
